This Isn't a Fairy Tale
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Regulus believed in happily ever after...until he didn't.:: RegBarty for Tedz.


**_A/N: For the lovely, amazing Teddy. ily bby._**

_He said "If you leave me now, my suicide will follow."_

_I said "What are you waiting for?"_

_Now I know how to kill a king._

_-Hungry Lucy, "To Kill a King"_

**i. once upon a time**

Your mother used to sit with you, you remember. Not often. No, God forbid she ever become a slave to parental duty. But sometimes. Once in a blue moon.

"You're special, Regulus," she would tell you as she stroked your dark hair. "You are a Black."

"But Mother, why does that make me special?" you always wondered.

Would you be less special if you were a Malfoy or a Rosier? She would never call them special.

"Being a Black means your blood is noble," she would say. "You are my pure little prince, Regulus."

You would always smile at that. You liked the thought of being like royalty, even if you had no crown. "Will I be a king one day?"

"Oh, yes. You'll make a fine king, I think."

**ii. princes and peasants**

He sits across from you on the train, all nervous smiles and blushing cheeks. "I'm Barty," he says, his voice shaky with nerves. "Barty Crouch Jr."

"Regulus Black."

His eyes flash with a sudden anxiety, and he squirms, focusing his attention on the window. You don't ask why your name makes him uneasy. Everyone must already know that the Blacks are practically royalty.

"You don't have to be scared. I'm just like everyone else."

He doesn't answer, but his face softens ever so slightly.

"Chocolate Frog?" you offer.

A smile flickers over his face, and he leans forward, happily accepting one. "Thanks."

"What House do you think you'll be in?"

"Ravenclaw, I hope. You're hoping for Slytherin, aren't you?"

You nod. "Til my brother got Sorted into Gryffindor, I didn't even know there were other Houses."

He laughs as though you've said something funny. You think that you like his laugh. It's nicer than his silence.

**.**

Bellatrix grabs your arm when you step onto the platform, pulling you away from Barty. "Stay away from that boy," she says. "He's a Crouch."

"I know," you tell her, frowning. Why do names mean so much to your family?

Before you can ask, a giant figure appears in the distance, heralded by the glow of a lantern. "Firs' years, this way," the figure booms.

You pull away from your cousin, falling in line beside Barty.

"Boats," he groans. "I hate boats."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid of drowning."

"I think it would be peaceful," you say, and you reach out, taking his hand.

Barty looks down at your fingers entwined, brows raising.

"I'll make sure you don't drown."

He smiles at that, and you step into the boat first.

**.**

"Black, Regulus."

You fight back your nerves and step out of line, heart hammering in your chest as you sit on the stool.

Before the Sorting Hat falls over your eyes, you find your brother's eyes. Sirius is not a prince anymore. He's renounced the throne, and you can see it in his eyes that he wants you to follow in his footsteps. But you won't. You can't. You are your mother's little prince.

The Hat plunges you into darkness for only a second before heralding you as a Slytherin. Triumphant, you rush off to the Slytherin table, squeezing in beside Bellatrix and Andromeda.

"Crouch, Bartemius."

"Watch," you say, nudging Bellatrix's arm. "He's special, too. He'll be just like us."

"RAVENCLAW!"

Your heart sinks.

"I told you, Regulus," Bellatrix says, shaking her head. "You need to stay away from him. He's not like us."

**.**

"What's up, mate?" Barty asks when you find him after your first Potions lesson.

"You should have been in Slytherin!" you hiss, and there's no denying the hint of accusation in your words.

"Why?"

"Because. You're different. You have to be."

"I asked the Hat to put me there."

"Why?"

"So I could be with you."

You smile.

**iii. they lived happily ever- never mind**

You rest against Barty's shoulder, bare feet dipped into the lake, eyes on the horizon. His hand finds yours, kind and gentle.

Some days, days like this, it's easy to forget that he's what Bellatrix calls a Ministry brat and that you're not supposed to love him. Some days, you think it will be easy to have him by your side whenever you inherit the kingdom.

"I love you," you murmur.

"I love you, too."

It really should be this easy.

.

"If word got out that you and that Crouch boy were still so close... Do you not realize how much shame the family would face?" Bellatrix demands over winter break when she finds you scribbling a letter to your boyfriend.

"He's a pureblood."

"He comes from a bad family, Regulus. Let him go. It would be kinder."

You shake your head, dark hair whipping against your face. "No! I can't just leave him. We've been together since first year."

"When you were a child, and silly infatuations could be overlooked," she says, waving a dismissive hand. "You're sixteen. Nearly an adult. It's time you started behaving like a Black ought to."

"But he's not like his father! He hates him! He's one of us."

A small smirk twists the corners of her lips, and you shrink back. That look on your cousin can never mean anything good. Bellatrix steps closer, patting your cheek. "Then let him prove it."

"How?"

"I'm sure you already know."

.

"You want me to what?"

"Join the Death Eaters with me," you say, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice. Still, your words tremble with uncertainty.

Barty stares at you, blinking rapidly as he comprehends your words. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because it's the only way my family would approve of us being together. They believe you're a Ministry loyalist like your father."

You notice the way he tenses at the mention of Barty Sr. This is the right spot to press. Enough pressure, and he will give.

"They think you're just like him, you know."

"I'm not."

You watch him, arms folded across your chest, waiting. You don't say any more. The weight of your words will sink in.

"I'm not," he says again, lips curling into a scowl. "I'll never be like that man."

"Well-"

"Fine."

.

You stare at the Mark burned into his skin, identical to your own. Now, you are bound together.

"Beautiful," you whisper, and you're not talking about the Dark Mark.

Barty gives a nervous smile, twisting his arm this way and that. "It is, isn't it?"

Eyes rolling, you grab him by the hair and pull him forward, your lips crushing together. "Not a very bright Ravenclaw, are you?" you laugh. "I meant you."

**iv. dragons can't always be slain**

You almost believe that everything will be easier now. Bellatrix looks at Barty like maybe, just maybe, he's worth something, and at you like you haven't shamed the family after all.

You spend your days with Barty- holding hands and pretending to take your future seriously, tangled in bedsheets and gasping out his name, living life together completely in love. Your nights are spent with him, wearing identical masks of purpose and servitude.

Everything will be okay somehow. You tell yourself this, but something in your bones says otherwise.

.

You can see a darkness in Barty's eyes. You know that it hasn't always been there. But every death his hands cause, every curse that passes through his lips change him, twist him.

He is not the sweet, young Ravenclaw you had loved at Hogwarts. He is not the devoted, hopeful young man who had followed you blindly only months ago.

Slowly, you realize that he is not a knight. He is the fearsome creature that lies in wait, ready to destroy anyone who crosses him.

.

"I love you," you whisper, trying to ignore his blood-slick hands that leave smears over your skin.

He doesn't answer. Once, when he was still _your _Barty, he would have echoed those words without a thought. Now, he only laughs as he grips you by the hair and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

"I miss you," you murmur against his lips, but your words are swallowed whole.

**v. the end**

"Don't leave me."

Barty raises a questioning brow. "I'm not going anywhere, Regulus."

You smile like his reassurance is enough to satisfy you. But you know that he's already gone.

.

It's your fault. All your fault.

You had wanted to become king, to have him at your side as you reign. You had been selfish, had twisted and broken him until you can no longer recognize the lover beneath you in bed.

.

You tell yourself that you're going to destroy the locket. You tell yourself it's the right thing to do, and that it will absolve you for all the wickedness somehow.

But you know you're a liar. You have no intention of coming back, whatever you may tell the elf.

Barty is too far gone. You cannot save him, but you cannot watch him burn.

"I love you," you say, stroking Barty's hair. "I'll be back in the morning."

And you turn, knowing you'll never see him again.


End file.
